


Don't Speak

by Ellen Smithee (ellensmithee)



Series: The Dos and Don'ts of Dealing with Originals [1]
Category: Vampire Diaries (TV)
Genre: Dom/sub, Dubious Consent, M/M, Masturbation, Silence Kink, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-28
Updated: 2012-01-28
Packaged: 2017-10-30 05:40:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,269
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/328342
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ellensmithee/pseuds/Ellen%20Smithee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Silence is golden.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Don't Speak

"Not another word, Damon."

Elijah's voice is low and cool, his fingers pressing hard into Damon's throat, crushing his windpipe. Damon knows it won't kill him, but fuck! It _hurts_ , and he could do without the bruises.

"Fine," he snarls, or tries to—it comes out as a croak.

"I mean it," Elijah says, tightening his fingers ever so slightly. Damon just nods and Elijah eases his hand again.

"Don't speak." Elijah's eyes are fixed on his now, and Damon realizes the other vampire is trying to compel him. Damon has a feeling now isn't the time to reveal that he's on vervain; too much is at risk here if he wants to find out where Klaus is keeping his little brother (and honestly, he's not quite sure he does at this point), so he just nods wordlessly, determined to play along.

Elijah gives him a look like he suspects Damon is doing just that, his eyes narrowed as he contemplates the other man. Damon nearly bites through his tongue to stop from saying anything that would piss off the other man, anything that would make the ruse fall apart. Finally, seemingly satisfied, Elijah nods.

"Very good." His voice literally _purrs_ and Damon is horrified to find himself responding to it. Elijah releases his throat and Damon follows, poised to protest. Elijah raises a brow and Damon just smirks. He can play this game. He _can_. He has to.

Then Elijah's hand is on Damon's cock, pressing against him through the fabric of his trousers, and Damon's breath hitches. A rumble deep in his throat and Elijah's moving his hand away. Damon sags—in relief, he tells himself, but it's more like disappointment—and he starts to move away. But then Elijah is pressing him to the wall again, his body flush against Damon's, and Damon can feel the other man's erection pressing against his hip, reminding him of what's at stake.

"I didn't say you could go." Elijah's jaw sets and Damon's stomach flutters, and then he's _angry_ at Elijah, at Stefan, at _himself_ for being afraid. He starts to struggle but Elijah is holding him there as if he were nothing. Damon opens his mouth to protest, but then he sees Stefan in his mind's eye, pale, blood staining his chest and face as Klaus dragged him off, and he stops. He struggles to regain control, breathing hard, sweat beading on his brow from the effort to remain silent. Then he notices that Elijah's touch has gentled, his hands running over Damon's shoulders and down his sides.

"You can do it," he murmurs, and Damon almost thinks he hears pride in Elijah's voice—or maybe he's just being smug. His stomach twists as Elijah's hand returns to his crotch and squeezes before Elijah reaches into Damon's pants and extricates his cock from its confines.

"You like this." It's a statement, not a question, and Damon almost bites through his tongue to keep from meeting the challenge. Elijah sounds cool and detached as he studies the reactions flitting across Damon's face as if he were watching an insect or any other being of equally little interest to someone of Elijah's ilk.

Elijah's hand has gone still on Damon's prick, and after a moment, Damon realizes Elijah is waiting for a response. He grits his teeth, fighting the urge to tell the man to fuck off, and rolls his eyes.

"Damon." The warning tone in Elijah's voice goes right through Damon, and Elijah steps closer again, crowding Damon against the wall. Instinctively, Damon raises his hands to ward off Elijah, laying them on Elijah's biceps. Elijah stills as he searches Damon's face.

"What will it be, Damon?" he asks. "Yes or no?"

Damon hesitates, flexing his fingers on Elijah's arm, and then he fists his hands in Elijah's suit jacket and pulls him closer. He hesitates, his mouth just hovering over Elijah's, and then his tongue darts out, sliding over the seam of Elijah's lips, light and swift, and then he starts to move away again.

"No," Elijah breathes, and then he closes the distance again, brushing his lips against Damon's with the slightest of pressure.

"Take out your cock," he murmurs, fixing his eyes on Damon's. Damon's heart pounds faster as he realizes that Elijah is attempting to compel him once again, but he's so hard now, that he's not sure he'd even want to resist at this point even if he weren't keeping up the pretense. 

Damon's lips curve up on one side as he maintains the mutual gaze and he starts to unbutton his jeans, one button after the other, with almost excruciating slowness. Elijah's shoulders set as he realizes what Damon is doing, but his expression just turns slightly amused.

"You'd be well-advised not to play games with me, Damon," he says. _This isn't a game?_ Damon yearns to ask, but he just presses his lips together.

Elijah glances down between them as Damon extricates his erection from his jeans, and his smile deepens.

"Now touch yourself," Elijah says. "I want to see you get yourself off."

Damon's whole body seems to burn under Elijah's intent stare, and he's filled with shame and arousal in equal measure. Elijah's eyes seem to glaze over as he watches, his tongue poking out from between his lips in concentration. Damon imagines that tongue, those lips, on his cock, and that's all it takes. His eyelids fall closed as he senses his orgasm approaching, and then he gasps as he feels Elijah gripping his chin.

"Open your eyes," Elijah hisses. "Look at me when you come."

Damon's eyes fly open and Elijah is right there, his eyes fixated on Damon's. His fingers are digging into Damon's chin, and it _hurts_ , and Damon is coming, shooting all over Elijah's pants and shoes.

Damon starts to collapse, but Elijah catches him, holding him against the wall as Damon comes down from the orgasm. Elijah leans forward, resting his forehead on Damon's. His muscles are vibrating almost imperceptibly under Damon's hand on his shoulder, the only indication that Elijah is at all affected by what has just happened. Elijah takes a deep breath and then steps away. Taking a handkerchief out of his breast pocket, he bends down and wipes Damon's ejaculate off his otherwise immaculate shoes before straightening up and shoving the handkerchief into his pants pocket.

"Stefan is in the cellar of Klaus's mansion," he says in a businesslike tone. He takes a piece of paper out of his pocket and hands it to Damon. "Come by at 10 tonight. The alarm will be off and the back door will be open. You might need to bring some bags of blood with you. Meanwhile I will… distract my brother."

Damon opens his mouth to reply and then stops short when he realizes he's still supposed to be "under compulsion."

"How remiss of me," Elijah says, raising a brow. "Although I think I might like you better this way." Damon's eyes narrow, but Elijah just leans in until his face is just a few inches from Damon's. "I release you."

Damon lets out a loud sigh of relief and opens his mouth to speak, but Elijah is already heading towards the door.

"Goodbye, Damon," he calls over his shoulder. "Oh, and…" Elijah turns back to Damon, his lips twisted into a knowing smirk. "Thanks for the drink."

With that, he's gone, disappearing in a blur. Damon stares at the empty space for a moment and then he notices Elijah's empty glass on the bar—next to the carafe of vervain-laced bourbon.


End file.
